Tension Rising, Tension Breaking
by footshooter
Summary: Everyone gets lonely. Everyone needs someone to talk to. Especially when you're in an apocalypse and tension is building. And who better to seek out than someone else who has no one left? T for swearing. And I'm British. My American may not be 100% LOL


Sat in the middle of a road, surrounded by cars, where the viewpoint was 'best', the remaining survivors took nightfall in a downfall. A tarpaulin had been pulled over the top of the car to hide the light from the fire should anything walk through.

The group sat in silence staring at the fire in small groups or on their own as far away from everyone else as they possibly could. The atmosphere was icy and tense – completely different from the previous night in the CDC where they all drank and laughed like friends.

Daryl absentmindedly stroked his crossbow while staring into the flames. His brain was working overtime, wondering about his family – his mother, his stepfather (who he'd cared about much more than his jerk of a father), his little brothers and sister, and Merle.

He wondered where Merle was now, and how he was doing with only one hand; if he was managing to shoot a gun and if he'd driven out of the city and away, just leaving Daryl with these fuckers. He wondered if his mother and stepfather had managed to stay safe or if they'd upped and left before the shit-storm hit. He hoped his siblings were with them, to help keep them safe; the zombie states are no place for an elderly couple on their own. No matter how many guns they own.

His eyes began to water, and a ball of anger started to swell in his stomach. He jumped to his feet and walked out of the circle and cover of the tarpaulin, jumping over the bed of his pick-up and striding into the dark. The others looked up at him, but no one followed.

Daryl stopped not far away from the 'camp', but far enough to be swallowed by the darkness. It made him feel better. Freer. Less suffocated. He'd been helping these bastards for how long now? Hunting, killing zombies, following them into the fucking cities. He wasn't sure he could be choked by them for much longer.

For one, they were all idiots. They didn't kill infected if they were 'one of them', leaving time for them to turn and get back up. Look at that blond chick, they wouldn't let him double-tap her, and she nearly bit her sister's ear off. But they'll leave a man handcuffed to a fucking roof, right? They'll keep a man who's been bitten in a van, with 4 or 5 others, but leave another for dead without looking back.

Half of them are suicidal, nothing left, not wanting to live.

They run into cities in the vein hope of a cure that is never gonna come, instead of staying put and surviving.

They're sloppy and it worries Daryl. He's sure one of them will get him killed. That's a liability in itself. He thought back to when that son of a bitch got his deer. One of them cut off its head, but they didn't make sure. He had to shoot it through the eye socket for them.

A footstep behind him made him jump and spin round, crossbow at the ready. Glenn stood behind him with his hands up, and Daryl snarled and turned back round.

"The fuck you want?"

Glenn shrugged, forgetting Daryl couldn't see him. "Just making sure you're okay."  
>"Whatever."<p>

There was silence.

"Daryl…"  
>"Look Glenn! Just fuck off alright? I don't wanna talk to none o'ya! Fuck you all. Imma serious man, just leave me be!"<p>

Glenn sighed, and stood feeling awkward for a while before leaning against Daryl's pick up. Daryl's felt his stomach sink slightly when he didn't hear the kid leave, and he almost felt bad for snapping; almost apologised, but he caught himself just in time.

"You see that?"  
>Glenn looked up, surprised.<p>

"What? I can't see anything out here."  
>"'Xactly. City's not far back that'a way and you just can't see shit. Makes me feel I'm back home. The darkness."<p>

There was silence for a couple of minutes and then Glenn spoke.

"I miss home. I miss my bed and my shower."

Daryl huffed a laugh and Glenn smiled.

"Ah miss time on mah own. That's pretty much it."  
>"It's kinda dodgy here right now, yeah."<p>

"Airs like treacle."  
>"Yeah. And…" Glenn trailed off.<p>

"Whut?"  
>"…Nothing."<p>

Daryl narrowed his eyes and walked over to Glenn, sitting down beside him.

"Nah, kid. What's eatin' ya?"

Glenn paused.  
>"Have you noticed Shane?"<p>

"Um, well yeah…"  
>"No, I mean have you noticed him lately?"<br>"Well, he's been a little pissy…"  
>"Nah, he's been downright weird. I mean, you see those scratches on his neck?"<br>"Yeah, I did wonder. No way he cudda done them himself. And he does look a little madder than right at the start."  
>"It's been since Rick got back."<br>"Aw hell, Shane just thought he were alpha. Now he's pissed that his sheriff's come back and took control back."  
>"And his woman…" Glenn muttered.<p>

"Eh?"

"Lori. She won't speak to him now."

"Really?"  
>"Do you notice anything?"<br>"I try not to get caught up in the lives of that lot o'er there. Does me no good."

"I'm worried that something's gonna happen. Life's dangerous enough without us ripping each other apart."  
>"That why you came out t'talk to me?"<p>

Glenn laughed, "Nah."

In the dim light reflecting out from the fire, he saw Daryl's eyebrow rise.

"Well, yeah. But I figure everyone needs someone to talk to."  
>"Even motherfuckers like me?"<br>"Hey, I didn't say it was all about you."

Daryl looked at Glenn, "You lonely kid?"  
>Glenn nodded.<p>

"I feel… left out. Everyone has someone."  
>"But me?"<p>

Glenn shrugged. "I don't wanna impose or follow you round or anything. Just…"  
>"You need a friend."<br>"Well, yeah."  
>"And you've chose me?"<br>"If you'll have me."

Daryl laughed.

"We'll see."

Glenn laughed himself, but looked slightly crestfallen. Daryl looked over and pushed him, playfully.

"Course, kid. I mean, I'll try."

Glenn smiled.

"People usually leave when I shout. You just stood there. I'm pretty sure everyone else woulda expected bein' hit or shot or somethin'. Not you. Why?"  
>Glenn smirked.<p>

"You called me Glenn. Not 'kid', not 'chink': Glenn." He laughed to himself. "I took that as an indication we were getting somewhere."

Daryl smiled despite himself, and then sighed.

"Hey, you wanna sleep in the truck t'night or what? I figure the atmosphere'll be slightly less frigid tha' way. For us, anyhow."  
>Glenn smiled, "Yeah. That could be nice."<p>

"Go grab your sleeping bag from the truck, then. See if we can get a few hours sleep without any tuttin' or dirty looks n' shit."

Glenn stood up and climbed over the pick-up's bed, walking into the RV and taking out his sleeping bag. Rick looked up and frowned.

"What you doing, kid?"

Kid.  
>"Er… I'm gonna sleep in the pickup tonight."<br>"Why?" Lori asked, concerned.

Glenn shook his head, defensive, "I just am. Okay?"  
>"Be careful," Rick said pointedly, and Glenn glared at him.<p>

"Whatever, Rick. I'd advise you to do the same."  
>He glanced towards Shane, who sat staring into the fire – a dark look in his eyes. Lori's eyes widened as Rick's confused expression followed Glenn out into the darkness towards Daryl's pick-up.<p>

Glenn opened the passenger door and climbed in, smiling slightly at Daryl who sat staring through the windscreen towards the sky, eyes following the stars in constellations.

"I've always wanted to know the names of those things," Glenn said, and Daryl laughed.

"I could probably show ya at some point."  
>"Really? Cool."<p>

There was another pause – the awkward kind that follows two people who shouldn't get on but do when they find out they can actually be friends. Daryl leaned his head back against the seat, and Glenn sighed.

"I got shit for coming over here."  
>"Thought you might. I am the resident nutcase, r'member?"<p>

Glenn chuckled.

"I feel twenty times safer in here with you than anywhere near Shane with a gun."

Daryl's face darkened, "You really that bothered by him?"

Glenn nodded, "I feel like something really bad is going to happen."

"Then maybe we need to stop it…"

Glenn looked at Daryl and Daryl looked at Glenn. Glenn broke the eye contact first, and looked at the floor of the truck. He swallowed, and his voice small, said,

"Yeah. Maybe we do."


End file.
